smashed macbook pro

Now I know that you guys have come to expect a certain standard from me. When you want honesty, integrity and impeccable work ethic, you know exactly who to call.

And you know that when you want none of those things, you read something written by me. Now, Dane recently brought it to my attention that I’ve been a little too down the line as of late. You may have read my previous column, which was a thoroughly-researched thought-piece on the many failings of the Olympics games and the fledgling Doritos economy.

This week I’ve decided to do away with all that serious investigative journalism and instead double-down on dick jokes and vulgar references. You’re welcome.

I, too, hate wireless peripherals

Dane Remendes recently admitted that he’s a technological Neanderthal who tries to plug his earphones into his Ethernet port on the regular. In a show of solidarity, I too must confess that wireless headphones, mice and keyboards annoy me with their sorcery and I’ve dismissed them all as bullshit bought by buffoons.

I also take sadistic, sexual pleasure in seeing them malfunction. My ultimate, erection-inducing hate-fantasy is the Apple mouse. It’s the trifecta of joyful despise for me – it’s overpriced, it’s wireless and it’s made by Apple.

Every time I see my wife cursing it as her cursor shudders to a halt on her stupid, overpriced iMac, a little ripple of glee runs through me and I make immediate plans to change my underwear. “Out of batteries, dear?” I ask, trying to stifle a snigger. She shoots me the dagger-eyes, but they quickly soften in the face of my rugged handsomeness.

Dane is probably wondering what happened to those wireless headphones he asked me to review nine months ago. The truth is I set them on fire, invited him over for dinner and cooked boerewors over them right underneath his nose, then touched myself furtively while he ate it.

Tarryn is untouchable

I read Tarryn’s review of No Man’s Sky while stroking my beard with measured satisfaction and rubbing my nipples inappropriately, pausing only to scroll down.

It was a glorious review. Here was a AAA title that everyone is excited about, and she’d poured a wheelbarrow of shit over it. With a score of 52 to boot. Tarryn, if you’re reading this, know that I spent an hour obsessing over that “2”. Perfect. Somehow worse than just 50, an exclamation point amongst the excrement.

I lurked the comments section, waiting for the haters to come. For all the people in denial to spout off about how their R900 spend was WORTH EVERY CENT as tears splashed into their bowl of two-minute noodles.

But nope, it was a bunch of reasonable people agreeing wholeheartedly. “Great review, Tarryn,” they said. “Couldn’t agree more!” “I wish I’d never spent all that money, I have shamed my family.”

This. Is. Bullshit. When I dared to give the second-coming-of-gaming-Jesus a score of 80 in my Uncharted 4 review, saying it was an excellent game, but had some issues, I was crucified on the cross of Internet justice and had multiple people threaten to castrate me with a rusty spoon.

Screw you guys.

You're gonna need a bigger spoon.

You’re gonna need a bigger spoon.

PlayStation Plus price increase

Let me polish off a pearl from the previous section: This. Is. Bullshit. Second to health insurance and condoms, this is my most begrudged purchase.

Being a lifelong, card-carrying member of the PC master race and evangelist for mouse and keyboard superiority, paying for multiplayer gaming is like having someone wash their filthy feet in my soul-pool.

Now I have to pay MORE to play online multiplayer? “But Chris,” you say, jiggling your moobs enticingly at me, “you get free games!” You know what else is free? AIDS.

Valve turns 20

Aaand the lack of Half-Life 3 turns ten. The only thing Valve has done in the last few years is make a PC/console hybrid that turned out to be the worst combination of things since people went lips-to-butthole in The Human Centipede, and dabbled in this VR bullshit for people who like to spend more than R10,000 to get nauseous.

If I see Gaben with a birthday cake it’s going to be the last thing I need to finally push me over the edge and send this angry email I’ve been drafting. Push it any further and I’m going to take out the “Kind regards” as well.

Alright, maybe I’ll just leave “Regards” in there.

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